


I try to think

by tiffabucks



Category: Original Work
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-09
Updated: 2020-05-09
Packaged: 2021-03-03 03:42:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 527
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24088318
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tiffabucks/pseuds/tiffabucks
Summary: I try to think in a lot of stuff when this happens to me
Kudos: 1





	I try to think

I try to think about a lot of stuff when these things happen to me. 

I try to focus on the good stuff, even if there are any. I try to be positive and convince myself that this will pass because I have already been there before and I survived. Even if I ended up broken and empty in the end, I survived. 

I try to not think about the pills I hide in my sock's drawer in case of anything that I can't handle happen. It's been like 8 months from now and I didn't even need to check if they were still there. I didn't even think of need them.

It's funny these crisis, these panic attacks that control all my body and let my mind empty and with so many thoughts at the same time. I read somewhere that is impossible to do two things at the same time, but I think the person who stated that never had a panic attack before. It consumes all your body and you have billions of thoughts at the same time. 

And it's impossible for you to think straight about something either. 

I tell everyone that I sleep with my cats because I don't like them to walk around my neighborhood at night. But to be honest the main reason is because they make me feel safe. Even if because of them I don't have much space in my bed and sleep uncomfortable. They save me every fucking night. 

When I wake up from a nightmare if I feel the little paws of my cat in my wet back I feel relieved and just cuddle with him until my breath starts to get normal again. I try to focus in their furr and talk nonsense with them because I know they will help me.

They always do. 

I can't picture the idea of not sleeping with them again. I'm afraid to go to work, to buy stuff alone. But I don't say anything to anybody because I'm doing a pretty good job pretending I'm fine. 

I tell my bosses I'm shaking because of the walk and the mask I have to wear. I tell my mom that my brother has to help in chores like going out for groceries too. I tell myself I'm fine even when I let myself to cry a little in the bathroom. 

I tell myself that I'm not broken and it's fine feel empty sometime. 

Even if I have a boyfriend. Even if me loves me. Even if sometimes I feel that I don't feel anything for him at all because I'm better alone without bothering people. Even if I'm sure that he'll leave me soon so it doesn't really matter if I feel something for him or not. 

This whole thing of living is so messed up. I mean, what's the point anyway? You're burn, then you grow up and then you have kids or work and retires and then die? 

If dying is the answer/the final way why people are so afraid of it? I'm gonna die anyway so why I keep making it last longer than necessary? 

_Bullshit._

**Author's Note:**

> well these are just some thoughts   
> i wrote this on my cellphone right now and after a fucking nightmare so huh   
> as ive said a lot English is not my first language so I'm really really sorry for any mistake 
> 
> bai *.*


End file.
